Everything Will Be Okay
by Vahkhiin
Summary: This is where he will always feel her and remember and live entirely in her memory because out here, he still has purpose.


**A/N: I know... I'm supposed to be updating Give Me Love but after Episode 15 I just couldn't help myself but fill in all the gaps of Daryl's scenes and also add a much nicer ending to that episode :)**

_"Yeah we're doing fine."  
__Sinking Sun by Mt Warning_

* * *

It's late and dark and he can't see for miles. But he hears everything though and he knows and feels it in his veins and in a way, he almost sees it too. He knows where to look and where to shoot and what to follow and what signs to read. He knows when to hold his breath and when to press the end of his crossbow into his side and stare down its length and exactly when to pull the trigger.

He knows when to stop and when to stare and when to bend a knee and when to look left or right or behind him. He knows all of this because this, out here, this is where he belongs. This is who he is and this is where he will always find her. This is where he will always feel her and remember and live entirely in her memory because out here, he still has purpose. Out here he knows what needs to be done and out here he survives. He doesn't live anymore; he only survives wherever he is and even when he is within those walls. He doesn't live; he can't and he won't and nothing will ever really be the same again.

Maybe it would be different if she were there and if she were with him. She'd know the right things to say and the moments when he'd need reminding.

Aaron mutters something beside him; something about them being alone out here in the night with no one in sight and no sign of life anywhere. But when he steps from the tall grass and stares across the field and into the opening to the rest of the woods he sees a light. It's dim but it's there and it flickers and it doesn't matter who it is because to him that's a sign. That's her lighting up his world and telling him that she is still here. That she still believes in him and the man he has become. That she is proud and that she is okay and that he should be too because she'll always be here with him and he'll never really truly be alone.

They push on into the night and towards the fire and it's risky and he knows the world out here isn't safe anymore. But he trusts Aaron; trusts the man to have his back because out of everyone he's known, it's Aaron that reminds him most of her.

It's ultimately her though that gives him reason to still believe and trust in others. Her voice is always there; always a lull in the back of his mind and in his dreams and always when he closes his eyes.

There's a herd though that approaches and he hears it the instant he starts to make out the flickering flames and a shadow of a person lingering near it. He suggests that they climb a tree and let the herd pass because it's dark and as good as he is he really can't take out a herd with Aaron. The man was good with his pistol and somewhat competent with a knife but the man was nothing compared to Michonne or even Carl for that matter. But he respects that though because the man respects him and that matters.

Besides, she wouldn't have wanted him to die tonight.

The branch digs into his thigh and Aaron looks uncomfortable. He looks down though and watches the herd and trusts in the strength of these branches to keep them safe up here. He'd say something to pass the time and to remind the man to relax because the herd wasn't going to get up here. The herd didn't even know they were here.

"You sure these branches will hold our weight?" Aaron asks.

He looks from the herd to Aaron who has an arm thrown around the trunk and whose face is pale and eyes are wide.

"Should be alright," he mutters lowly in that gravely tone of his.

It takes a few hours for the entire herd to pass and it's larger than usual and they'll need to keep an eye out for herds like this again because herds like this can destroy what they've built. He makes a note to tell Rick about it later and is sure that Aaron's already made a note to tell Deanna about it too. He says nothing though and hasn't said a damn thing since he reassured the man that the branches were going to be fine. He supposes he ought to have said more; shared stories and all that shit.

But Aaron isn't her and he isn't really him without her. Maybe if she were here in the tree with him then he would've said something; would've told her that it was her that changed his mind. That it's her that reminds him every day that there are still good people in this world. She might've said something back to him and then suggested they do something stupid like burn another cabin down again because what the hell and who really cares.

She isn't here though and Aaron is and he hasn't felt more alone since that moment he saw the bullet leave the back of her skull.

"Should we climb down soon?" Aaron asks.

"There's still a few," he mutters and sees three walkers still staggering and aimlessly pressing onward.

He breathes and curls a finger around the trigger of his crossbow and looks to the horizon and leaves Aaron to think as he does some thinking of his own too. The tip of the sun breaches the horizon and there's this large orange glow that blankets the field and the trees and it's beautiful. She should be here; she should see this. His heart aches when he thinks about this and about her and about how he wishes she were here to watch this with him.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Aaron notes.

"Mhmm…" he hums and looks away from the horizon and stares instead at the ground and the leaves and everything else other than the horizon and Aaron.

It's safe enough for them to leave the tree but he still stays there and he says nothing and he wants to just forget for a little while. He wants to just remember and he does. He hears her voice echoing in the breeze and remembers the way she sounded when she sang. He sees her blue eyes all soft and warm and glowing and blonde hair blowing in the wind behind her. He doesn't know when he's ever actually seen her like that or why he is even picturing any of this.

"We should move," he mutters and blinks away and tenses and curls a hand around one branch and the other around his crossbow.

He moves before Aaron even has a chance to respond and with a push and a jump and a thud he's already on the ground and looking around. His crossbow drawn and ready to shoot and her knife still at his side and ready for him to grab and pull back and stab.

Aaron jumps down beside him a moment later and with a quick glance and a nod, they're moving again. He pushes through the woods and sees signs of the walkers having passed this place long ago. He heads for the direction where the fire was and it isn't difficult to find footprints; isn't difficult to follow them.

"What do you see?" Aaron asks when he pauses to gather his bearings and look past the jagged signs and for the solid footsteps that got lost amongst them for a moment there.

"Footsteps," he tells the man.

"I don't see anything," Aaron mutters.

"The signs are all there," he starts and then realises what he's about to say.

He feels as if he's back there again and as if she's right there behind him and he's telling her and teaching her how to hunt and survive.

"Which ones?"

He'd answer if he wasn't feeling like he was a million miles away from here. He ignores Aaron instead and doesn't bother to care what Aaron might think right now. He imagines the man already knows that sometimes he'll talk and sometimes he just won't answer.

He follows the footsteps again when he finds them and he presses on with the crossbow at his side.

There's blood though and limbs and it's raw and its fresh and this disturbs him but he doesn't mention it. He's seen scenes like this before; he's lived far too long in this world and knows what men are capable off. But she isn't here for him to protect and she isn't here for him to fear for. He continues on with Aaron behind him and then he sees it; sees a woman tied to a tree, all blonde hair, naked and guts all turned inside out.

He doesn't even want to begin to wonder who set this up or why or how or for what purpose. He doesn't let his mind go there because he's already somewhere else. He's in that hallway staring at her and she's looking at him and for a moment he's feeling like he's made it. Like somehow he's actually done something right in his entire life. But then everything blurs and everything doubles and then there's the bullet leaving the back of her skull again; there's her falling and bleeding and dying.

And his life really did end there with hers but he will never tell anybody. He will never say it. She wouldn't want him too.

"She's tied up," Aaron mutters and the man's voice pulls him from his thoughts, "And they fed on her."

He breathes and there's a tightening in his chest.

"Tore her apart," Aaron continues.

He tenses even more and he tries not to go there; tries to pull himself together and keep himself from flying apart.

"This just happened?"

He nods and glances away briefly before looking back again. "Yeah," he mutters.

He doesn't know why but he feels compelled all of a sudden to look at the woman's face; to know and to remind himself that this isn't her even though he already knows that it isn't.

"How the hell did this happen?"

And there's a moment and a fraction and a second where all he sees is blue eyes and a smile. But then the reality of this moment comes back to him and again all he sees is death and glazed eyes and teeth and the dead rising again. He stabs her head and it's raw and its painful and it hurts him to do this because he's seeing her in that woman. He's seeing her looking back at him.

Aaron stares for a while in disgust or pity or sadness or whatever, he doesn't care. He takes a step back and then pulls the belt of his crossbow around him and feels its leather digging into his shoulder. He steps up again but to the side instead and curls a hand under each line and cuts it.

"What are you doing?" Aaron asks.

"Cutting her down," he sighs and tries not to look at her and tries instead to keep his eyes on the rope.

"Why?"

He feels Aaron's eyes burning a hole through his head and he pauses for a moment and for a second. He knows why and it isn't because he wants too; it isn't because he needs to do this either.

It's because _she_ would want him too.

"Because that's what we do," he mutters.

They lay the woman's body down to rest and it isn't anything graceful because she ends up falling down after he slices the rope clean. He curls the body to the side, puts the woman's hands together and knees together. He pulls the rag from his back pocket and he covers her face.

He stares one last time and thinks that this isn't the sort of burial that this stranger deserves but it is better than leaving the body strung up there like whoever she was didn't matter. He steps away even while Aaron still stares and he's already moving and already pressing on and already heading back towards where their vehicles are.

He doesn't speak for the rest of the way and neither does Aaron but the man seems to know where he is headed; seems to understand that he doesn't want to talk right now. Aaron follows and he leads and all is quiet until the car and the bike come to view.

"Why did you do that?"

He doesn't bother to answer but he shrugs and continues down the side of the road. He's already five steps in front and Aaron is hopelessly trying to keep up with his wide strides. He doesn't realise though until he finally reaches his bike and finally moves to climb on it that he has to turn and has to face Aaron walking towards him.

"Why?" the man asks and slows and does that whole standing there with hands together sort of thing.

"Cause it ain' right," he explains.

"But we didn't know her," Aaron reasons.

He shrugs and looks to his hand and then curls it around the handle. "It don' matter."

His answer seems to live up to Aaron's expectations because a second later Aaron steps away and moves out of his view. He looks ahead and waits for the sound of the car door but he never hears it.

"You lost someone didn't you?" he hears.

He glances briefly to the right of him and catches sight of Aaron moving again but not to stand in front of him but a good space from his side instead. He looks ahead again and breathes and he isn't going to go there. He isn't going to pour his heart out because that isn't who he is. Dixon's didn't do that.

"We should go," he deflects and hopes his tone is direct enough for the man to get the picture and move on and let this go.

"Did she know?"

There's a moment of pause there and with it he turns and he looks and Aaron looks at him.

"Did she know that you love her?"

He doesn't know what that means because Dixon's didn't do emotions; Dixon's didn't love. They weren't capable of loving anything at all.

His chest strangely tightens though and he feels sick and he wants to run away and he wants to haul ass and get the fuck away from this place. He wants to turn and start up his bike and drive and never look back and just never return. Rick didn't need him; none of them did. He could just leave and he could just be and he could just drift like he did before all this shit happened. Nobody would care. She wasn't back there waiting for him and she never would be either.

But the point is that he does nothing at all. He just looks away and stares ahead and down the road. He slowly drops his eyes to the ground and to the gravel and then to nothing at all. Because maybe, maybe he did love her. Maybe he still does. Maybe that's why he can't seem to let her go. Maybe that's why her death above all has been the hardest for him to come to terms with.

"It don' matter none if I did," he mutters and there's a lump in his throat and his chest is still tight.

But he accepts it and he doesn't know why but he does because maybe it was okay for him to admit that he loves her now; that all this time it made sense that he felt this way. That all the hours he has spent thinking about her and remembering her was because of this. Maybe this was okay. Maybe that's what Carol had meant and maybe that's what she had seen and what Maggie understood and what Rick already knew.

"It matters because you still do," Aaron tells him and it seems finite for some reason. It seems like that's it and there's that and it's set in stone now.

He turns finally again and looks at the man and he mutters, "Does it?"

He sees the man struggle to find an answer and he doesn't really hold any of this against the man. He is almost about to remind them that they ought to leave again when the sound of a bullet echoes through the forest. He's already on guard and pushing himself from the bike and lowering and pressing into the side of the car to take cover before he even realises.

Aaron is looking around too and just like that the entire conversation just ends and he's perfectly fine with that. He looks through the trees and holds his crossbow close.

"Where?" Aaron whispers and he points in the general direction where he is sure the sound came from.

Aaron moves again but he holds a hand up and presses his knee further into the road and turns his head slightly and listens.

"Someone's runnin' towards us," he whispers and stands and hauls the man up with him.

He pulls them to the other side of the road and into the trees and presses them both behind the thickest trunk. He stares ahead through the leaves though and looks past the bike and the car and listens again and waits.

"What-"

"Shh…" he hushes and continues to stare across the road and through the trees on the other side of the road.

It takes a while but the footsteps grow louder and he hears two distinct footsteps. One with a limp and the other that is more solid and more determined and strangely, familiar. The car blocks his vision and he presses Aaron into the trunk and motions for the man to stay there and be quiet as he moves around and behind the bushes and branches so that he could get a better view. He briefly glances at Aaron to make sure the man is still there and thankfully, that's one of the many things Aaron is good at doing; staying put and actually listening to him.

On the other side of the car he sees a strange man doubled over with a palm pressing into their car. He sees a woman too but her back is to him and he can't make out her face but her blonde hair and size and build and everything really seems familiar to him. He still stands guard though and he keeps his stance straight and hands tight over his crossbow. He listens because these people are still stranger and he hasn't quite determined if they're the trust worthy sort.

The fact that the woman seems untroubled and unthreatened by the man seems to indicate that they are somewhat okay. But he isn't sure and after everything he has seen, he won't take any chances.

"That was close," he hears the strange man mutter in a tone that is low but not threatening.

The woman says nothing at all but he sees her frantically pulling at the pack behind her and pulling it around and unzipping it and pulling something out. He catches a glimpse of the side of her face and her skin is pale and smooth and warm and familiar and it can't be. He moves from where he is hidden behind the branches and the bushes and he knows that he is going against everything he normally does, but he needs to know. He needs to see. He must be dreaming.

The strange man is the first to notice him and he continues to take a step even as the strange man lifts a rifle and pulls at the woman's arm and pushes her behind. But that's when he sees her and that's when she sees him and that's when he stops moving and when his entire world and everything in it just stops. Because here she is and here she breathes and there she stands.

"Beth…" he breathes and even saying her name and hearing it escape his lips seem to revive the part of him that died with her that day. He doesn't know what to believe anymore. He doesn't know what else to say or do or really think. He has questions but he can't find the words to formulate them.

He sees her push the strange man's rifle down.

"We don't know him," the strange man mutters but she is already moving towards him.

She moves slowly but her eyes do not lie and he knows that she knows him.

"Beth," he murmurs again when she is closer and when she is just an arm's length away from him.

He sees her lips part; sees her draw in a breath as if she wants to say his name too. But nothing escapes her lips; no sound or murmur or whisper. She is in his arms before he knows it and her palms are pressing into his back and his arms are curling around her shoulders. Her face is pressing into his chest and her forehead is touching his neck and his nose is in her hair.

He doesn't know if he's crying or laughing and he doesn't really know what else to feel other than relief and pure, genuine, happiness. The last thing he thought he would ever feel; the one feeling he thought had truly escaped him forever.

"Beth," he murmurs her name again and she still says nothing.

But she clings onto him and she doesn't let him go and she's holding him so close to her and so tightly too that he swears she's trying to engulf him entirely into her being. He shifts his arm from around her shoulders and he lowers them and he slides his hand onto the side of her face. He pulls back slightly; not too far but enough to look at her and to see her face and to see the tears running down her face. Her lips are quivering but she's smiling and he doesn't really know what to do in a situation like this but he's making it up as he goes along. He's never been here before; never been allowed to feel a miracle and see one and hold one and feel for once and for all that everything was going to be somehow okay.

He sees her press her lips together then sees her part them and then sees her draw in a breath as if she's trying so hard to do something or say something but yet she just can't quite form the words she wants to use. But then he sees the strange man moving now; sees Aaron stepping out from the trees too and they're all just standing there in the middle of the road.

"She can't speak," the strange man tells him, "Hasn't been able too since I came across her."

He looks back to her and she isn't smiling anymore but her eyes are soft and the back of his vest and shirt are still crunched up in her hands.

"Think the blow she took t'the head took that away from her," the stranger continues.

He looks for a moment and sees Aaron standing there on the other side of the car; sees the man smiling and looking a little bit lighter and a little bit better and a little bit hopeful too. He imagines they'll all have proper words later; imagines that Aaron will want to get to know her. But for now he looks back at her and for now he allows himself to live in the now and in the here and with her.

Because his life didn't ended and he didn't die along with her. She made it and he still sees the scar and still hears the ringing of the bullet that left her skull. But none of that really matters; none of that really holds any water anymore because she is here and she is in his arms and he is holding her.

"'s gonna be okay," he murmurs to her but mostly to himself, "I've got you."

And he does and he will and he doesn't know whether she even loves him; whether she even remotely feels anything for him either. But whether she does or not, it doesn't matter.

Because she is here and she is with him and everything will be okay now.


End file.
